


Waiting

by anomalously



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Date Night, F/F, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 11:06:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15484410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anomalously/pseuds/anomalously
Summary: They talk through problems. There’s not a lot of problems, but shit happens… life happens. Sometimes one of them is being a massive fucking bitch; sometimes Mickey, who is normally amazing with finances, can’t resist when she sees something in a store, and they have to cut a couple corners to make up for it; sometimes Ian leaves all her shit everywhere and, as her girlfriend loudly claims, expects Mickey to “clean up after her ungrateful ass like it’s her fucking job”. They’re human.





	Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS AN IMPULSE POST  
> ITS EXPERIMENTAL 
> 
> There's a really specific kinda butchy girl type that Mickey is often seen as, when it comes to fem!ixm. And lemme be clear... fucking love that version & if IF I ever write another fem fic, I'm probably going with that version. However, this is not that Mickey, this is another type of Mickey.

She was fucking beautiful. Thick inky hair and bright blue eyes, Ian swore she could stare at her girlfriend for days. Especially like this, when she was padding around in the bathroom in nothing but a towel, wet hair clipped up, trying to decide what to wear and how to do her makeup for their date night. She'd go with that cute black dress that showed off her shoulders, Ian knew. It looked so good, and was Mickey's favorite -Ian's favorite too.

Ian of course has been ready for at least half an hour. Sitting on the edge of their bed, pretending to flip through her phone, pushing the mass of curls out of her face every few minutes. Mickey keeps catching her looking, raising her middle finger while she pulled a goofy face.  

"How the fuck am I supposed to know what to wear if you don't tell me where we're going? You always do this shit to me." Mickey complains. But she doesn't wait for Ian to respond before the hair dryer flips on.

Ian loves her, swear she does. Loves her with everything she's got. Even now, when she's in the middle of her routine -simultaneously bitching about something while taking entirely too long to get ready. Ian can't complain. Not too much. She's given Mickey enough hell, enough hassle, to last a fucking lifetime. Mickey’s high-maintenance ass has earned it, frustrating as it is.

Ian sighs, gets up from the bed to walk to the bathroom. She closes the toilet seat so she can sit and watch, elbow leaning on the bathroom counter. Mickey is flipping her hair back and forth as she dries it, mouth still moving even though everything she's saying is being drowned out by the whirring blow dryer. Whatever she’s saying, she’s _real_ passionate about, that’s for sure. Ian bites down on the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

Then she shuts it off, perfect arched brows high as she looks over at Ian, like she's expecting an answer.

Ian lets a laugh out, shaking her head, "Baby, I didn't hear a word you just said."

"Where the fuck are we going?" Mickey asks.

They're going to a really nice bar up North Side. Just opened up a few weeks ago, and it’s been pretty packed every night since it’s opened. Best part is they brew their own beer. And even though Mickey's a beer or whiskey girl for the most part, she tends to roll her eyes at anything resembling microbreweries. But Ian thinks that Mickey will like this place. She doesn't tell her any of this, of course, opting only to shrug a shoulder and smile.  

Mickey smiles and laughs like she wants to do anything but, head shaking as she leans over, pressing a kiss to Ian's lips. Ian hums, reaching for the back of her neck, making it last longer.

"Such a bitch," Mickey murmurs against her lips.

Ian hums again, smiling as she pulls back to let Mickey continue getting ready, "I'll make it worth your while."

Her girlfriend gets this cute as hell flush, eyebrow arching high. She's all mischief and curious when she puts the hair dryer down for now, hands on her hips. "What you got in mind?"

"Never gonna find out if you don't get ready," Ian grins, getting up from the toilet. "You got twenty minutes-"

"Oh fuck _off_ ," Mickey snorts a laugh. It was worth a shot.

To be fair, Ian knew they were going out way before Mickey did; she had time to do all this shit before. She'd gotten her skirt and top on, found the perfect shoes (went with flats because Ian’s been _revolting_ against heels recently after almost breaking her ankle weeks ago), some of the perfume that Mickey loved, slapped a little mascara on... Ian could give her girlfriend some slack. She liked watching Mickey get ready anyway.

"Little black dress?" Ian asked, giving Mickey a knowing look. "Want me to pull it out of the closet for you?"

Mickey narrowed her eyes a little, then grinned real slow, “I got a new dress, why don’t you go grab it for me.”

Interest piqued beyond belief, Ian reached out to give her girlfriend’s ass a soft pat before heading over to their closet. The hairdryer sprung to life again in the background as she rummaged around the section of Mickey’s side of the closet that was designated to her going-out dresses. Christ almighty, there was too much.

It was like the only reason she came out of the closet was because she couldn’t fucking fit in there anymore with all her goddamn clothes.

“Jesus Christ,” Ian muttered to herself before she heard the hair dryer shut off. She called over her shoulder, “Girl, you need to go through your shit again!”

“Why?”

Ian laughed, rolling her eyes, moving a light blue dress that her girlfriend wore possibly once… for an _hour_. “Because you have a fucking problem.”

Mickey laughed soft, like she was caught. “But, you _like_ watching me get all dressed up.”

True. Ian tilted her head to the side, moving a smart gray dress out of the way; Mickey bought it last fall. She’d bought it for work, but Ian accidently broke the zipper when they were a little tipsy and trying to get each others clothes off. Fun night.

“Did you find it?” Mickey called from the bathroom. “It’s like a blush color. Silky.”

Ian had found it right when Mickey said it. She pulled the piece of clothing from the closet and held it out in front of her, looking at it with a small smile. Her girlfriend was a sneaky little shit going through a phase, and Ian was reaping all the rewards of it. “When did you get this?”

There was a couple familiar snaps of compacts opening and closing. “Couple days ago; don’t worry, there was a sale. Like it?”

Ian hummed an affirmative, carefully laying it on their bed. Short little flowy thing with a deep plunge. Mickey was going to look like a goddamn dream in that shit.

“Knew you would,” Mickey’s voice was softer that time, a little knowing.

Damn. Ian felt a little restless stir in her gut, dragging her eyes up and down the dress, imaging her girlfriends frame draped in it. Mickey had a killer body and during the summer she let her legs breathe. Thick thighs save lives is fucking right.

When Ian got to the bathroom to see how far along Mickey was, she grinned, reaching out to tug a little on her towel to get her attention. “You’ve been buying a bunch of soft girl shit lately, huh?”

Mickey glanced at Ian through the mirror before she leaned forward to check her lashes. “Well, I mean… you keep fucking me real good when I do, _so…_ ”

Every opportunity Mickey had to tease, she would. Ian felt her face bloom with heat, but she laughed; she sat down on the toilet’s closed lid, back to watching Mickey get ready.

Mickey just smiled, “Just saying, I started wearing all this cute girly shit, and you’ve been losing your goddamn _mind_ over it.”

Ian rolled her eyes despite the heat continuing to burn in her cheeks. Mickey was almost done, thank god. They could go soon, have a few drinks, walk around a little… then come back and Ian could prove Mickey exactly fucking right. She just couldn’t tell the brunette that, because Mickey would take that confession and run with it.

Mickey went through just about every phase of clothing style. She’s _always_ been into clothes, especially after they started their life together. But it was off, _before_. Mickey tried too hard back then. Something never felt right about it, she wore what she thought she was supposed to wear, she wore things that would make guys drool over her instead of what she actually wanted to wear.

Seemed like such a small thing, but it wasn’t.

Between trying too hard, and refusing to correct _vicious_ rumors back in high school about how much a “slut” she was… she just had a hard time. Got lost for a little bit; Ian got lost with her own shit. They’re better now. _So_ much better. They’ve had years to get to this point, and Ian had absolutely no plans on going back to how it was.

So now… a steady job? Comfy life? Stability in their relationship? God, the _freedom_ to have these things have helped them both in ways that Ian could _never_ explain. Made them grow and bloom into the women they were now. And Mickey Milkovich from South Side? _Thriving_ in her gay the way she was always supposed to.

There was just _something_ about her girl’s soft pale moon skin in these soft colors and flowy fabrics. That dark hair, those bright blue eyes. Mickey normally didn’t wear real soft shit like that, not until recently; it was new and exciting, and when Mickey wore these things, the waves of flirty confidence radiated thickly off of her. _That’s_ what did it for Ian. Mickey feeling herself in her clothes, feeling confident and sexy. _That_ was what got her going.

“Just didn’t know you were into delicate flowers, Gallagher,” Mickey pushed a little more, teasing her. “Should I go get my nails done too?”

“Okay!” Ian laughed, reaching out and hitting the back of her hand against Mickey’s hip. “One, you’re the furthest thing from a delicate flower. Two, we both know you wouldn’t last two days with nails, your ass is anything but a fucking pillow princess. Three… we gotta go, c’mon.”

 

* * *

 

Mickey looked beautiful sitting there next to Ian. It was hard for Ian to keep her hands to herself; she kept reaching out to touch the brunette, grazing her arm or a gentle touch on the outside of her thigh while they spoke. Mickey reached over a couple times, pushing a stray curl out of Ian’s face.

They had to speak over the layers of conversation in the bar, but it was still nice. They’ve come a long way. Made it out of South Side together… started over together, just them. They talk about work now, and finances, and who’s making what for dinner next week when Carl and Liam are supposed to stop by, maybe spend the night.

They talk through problems. There’s not a lot of problems, but shit happens… life happens. Sometimes one of them is being a massive fucking bitch; sometimes Mickey, who is normally _amazing_ with finances, can’t resist when she sees something in a store, and they have to cut a couple corners to make up for it; sometimes Ian leaves all her shit everywhere and, as her girlfriend loudly claims, expects Mickey to “clean up after her ungrateful ass like it’s her fucking job”. They’re _human_.

But the other shit too. The _them_ shit, the serious shit.

Ian talks about her issues, talks about when she feels too much or doesn’t feel enough. Mickey listens. She’s always listened, though… Ian just needed to catch up. It had been touch and go for a year, back when Ian was still trailing behind, hadn’t caught up to what was waiting for her the whole time. Mickey knew she had to find her way home, but there was a lot of hurt on the way, on both sides. It was a long year.

The same could be said for Mickey though, needing to catch up to what was waiting for her. Growing up how she did… how she and Mandy did, in that house… there was no opportunity for even a moment of vulnerability. People thought the Gallaghers were all about protecting their own, but the Milkovich sisters in particular were rabid about it. They’d kill for each other. When they finally got away, it was amazing to see them grow, see them start to feel like they could make a couple windows in their walls, break in some doors.  

Ian and Mickey had to take their turns in waiting for each other. Sometimes Ian had wanted to walk away —run away forever. Sometimes Mickey had wanted to build her walls back up and suffocate like that. But they didn’t. God knows why they didn’t. There were times when maybe they should have, times when maybe their families wished they would have.

Not them. They had to wait. They have always had to fight for it. They fought tooth and nail for this. This right here, this moment in this bar. _Worth it_ didn’t even cover it.

Ian grins into her glass of wine when blue eyes peer over at her, all moony. She doesn’t think Mickey really _knows_ when she looks at Ian like that. She doesn’t think Mickey is really aware of how her face has become less and less guarded over the years. It looks good on her. Looks real good.

“Oh, I forgot to ask you,” Ian suddenly remembered. “Deb is looking for a self defense class… she wanted to know if —why are you laughing?”

Mickey’s eyes lit up and she rolled them, “Ian, Iggy taught me how to defend myself. You know I didn’t go to a self defense class, I don’t know about that shit.”

Ian took a deep breath, drawing patience. “She wanted to know if _we wanted to go with her_.”

Mickey frowned, then took a sip of her drink. She was so fucking cute, all dressed up with her glass of straight up whiskey. Jesus. “Why?”

Ian shrugged, “I dunno, I don’t think she wants to go by herself.”

“Since when is Debbie afraid to go somewhere by herself?”

Ian looked at Mickey, because she knew the answer to that. Mickey looked back at her, brow arching. Ian blinked at her. “You know she’s been freaked since she got mugged a month ago.”

This was a little hard for Mickey sometimes. Not that she isn't compassionate. Far from it, Mickey was compassionate as hell. But, Mickey was also _desynthasized_ from shit like this. They both were, even Debbie was… but Mickey was moreso. She forgot about this stuff, obvious as it should be. Kind of sad when Ian thinks about it too hard. Mickey’s seen the worst shit.

“They caught that motherfucker, right?” Mickey asked.

“Yeah,” Ian answered.

“Good.”

“I just think that if you came with us, she’d feel better,” Ian continued. “She thinks you’re a badass or something, dunno why.”

Mickey reached over and pinched Ian’s leg, “Bitch.”

Ian snorted a laugh, swatting at her girlfriend’s hand. “So, will you go? She’s really been having a hard time, it freaked her out.”

“Of course,” the brunette nodded; Ian knew she would. Because Mickey’s compassionate; she gets that she doesn’t always get it, she just needs to be reminded. “Gotta show her how to sew a switchblade into her bra. You Gallaghers are slacking.”

“One week of Home Ec sophomore year, and you’re the Inspector Gadget of lingerie,” Ian muttered into her wine glass, eyes rolling.

 

* * *

 

Ian loved these summer nights. She reached for her girlfriends hand, slotting their fingers together as they walked down the sidewalk. Hand in hand. Ian squeezed Mickey’s hand lightly. Mickey looked over at her, hand pushing her hair out of her face as she brought Ian’s hand up to her mouth, pressing a kiss below her wrist.

After knocking back a couple drinks, Mickey wanted to leave the bar, wanted to walk around a little (Ian only had the one glass of wine, being demoted to a casual lightweight drinker when she had to start shoveling meds down her throat). They’d end up stopping to get a hot dog or something, they liked to munch when they got a little tipsy. Mickey pulled her hand up again, kissing below her wrist a second time. Ian laughed, heat spreading across her cheeks.

“You look really pretty tonight,” Mickey commented.

Ian grinned over at her, “You too.”

But then Mickey stopped walking, the suddenness tugging on Ian’s arm, making her stop too. Ian frowned at her girlfriend, “What’s wrong?”

Mickey shrugged, her lips pulling from side to side in thought, “I love you.”

Ian breathed a little laugh, not knowing what was wrong with Mickey, a little confused. She looked so damn serious. “I love you too… what’s going on?”

A middle aged couple passed them on the sidewalk. A couple cars rolled by. They weren’t in a bad area, and between the two of them, anyone who tried anything would get a seriously fucked up surprise. But worry scratched at her insides; she didn’t know if she was missing something. Ian had to remind herself that they were okay. Terry was dead now and as far as Mickey was concerned the rest of the world could fuck all the way off. So they were okay.

Mickey shrugged again, but smiled this time as her face flushed around her cheeks a touch, “Nothing’s going on, I just… I love you. Thank you for taking me out.”

Ian didn’t realize how close they were until then. She kept her hold on Mickey’s hand, tilting her head in question. She knew when Mickey didn’t say everything she wanted to say, knew when she had something sitting on the tip of her tongue.

“Baby, are you okay?”

There was a pause, Mickey’s hand coming up to cup Ian’s cheek. Ian leaned into the touch, loving her girlfriend’s warmth. Mickey said softly, “I’m ready now.”

“For what?” Ian asked.

Mickey arched one of her perfect brows, full lips pulling back in a toothy grin. “I’m ready to start a family.”

Ian couldn’t think. She just stared, mouth hanging open, eyes fixed on the brunette. Never in a million fucking years did she ever think that she’d hear those words from Mickey. Not any time soon, anyways. It was never a huge argument for them, never caused any serious strain on the relationship. Mickey needed time though, and honestly so did Ian. Ian just got there first; had to wait for Mickey to catch up.

They always had to wait for each other, they knew this.

So Ian had waited patiently. She waited and waited, only sometimes leafing through baby name books and reading up on prenatal care —only sometimes. There may or may not be a bag full of onesies jammed in the trunk of her car because she may or may not have fallen weak in the middle of Target. There also may or may not be several names highlighted in the baby name book.

Fiona said they can have Liam’s old crib when the time comes… Ian cleaned it up and painted it a few months ago; it’s still sitting in the Gallagher basement. Waiting.

“Are you…” Ian breathed. She swallowed hard, head shaking to clear itself like an etch-a-sketch. “Are you sure?”

Ian couldn’t have children. They found that out after Ian was ready —she’d been curious. The Gallaghers were a fertile bunch, but there was always this nagging _thing_ at the back of Ian’s mind she could never explain. Something she tried to chalk up to nerves; something that everyone always rolled their eyes at and told her she was fine, she was a _Gallagher,_ she could have a whole hoard if she wanted. It wasn’t nerves, she was just all empty inside.

Mickey held her all night after they found out. Brushed her hair and kissed the back of her shoulder soft. Just held her. There wasn’t much else to do or say, but Mickey had been perfect.

Maybe it was a blessing though, Ian not able to have children. She didn’t really know which genes were worse, Milkovich or Gallagher… but they’re almost positive that there’s no bipolar on the Milkovich side. Mickey doesn't like when Ian says shit like that though, hates when Ian says it’s better she doesn’t have the kid, so there's no chance of passing on her crazy. _You’re not fucking crazy, stop_ , Mickey says. _Any kid would be fucking_ lucky _to be part of you_.

Then Mickey would say some sticky sweet shit that always got Ian all fucked up inside. Made her tear up and chew at her lips. She’d say things like, _it’s gonna be a part of you anyways. You’re a part of me._

Mickey nods once, and Ian is already holding her, already kissing her soft and holding her face. A family. With Mickey. “Oh my god,” Ian’s feeling her eyes sting. She kisses Mickey again and again; Mickey’s laughing against her mouth. “Oh my god, okay… okay… holy shit. You’re for real?”

“Yes, I’m for fucking real,” Mickey laughed, grabbing at Ian’s hips, holding her still. They’re still in the middle of the sidewalk, cars still rolling by now and then, another couple walking past. “I wanna have a baby with you.”

Ian was full on fucking crying right now, sniffing through a watery smile when Mickey reached up and wiped softly at her face, wiping her tears away. “Oh my god,” is all she could say.

“Ay,” Mickey whispered. “People are gonna think I’m breaking up with you… and you look too beautiful to break up with, so they’re gonna think I’m not only a monster, but a fucking _moron_.”

It worked; Ian laughed louder this time, nodding her head. “You did this,” she teased. “You made me cry. Evil lesbian… nasty woman.”

Mickey snorted a loud laugh, covering her own mouth with one hand, her other swatting at Ian’s shoulder. Ian laughed with her, then grabbed at her, pulling her close as she could, burying her face into the crook of Mickey’s neck. She smelled so good, felt so good holding her back just as tight.

“Thank you,” Ian whispered into black hair. “I love you so much, thank you.”

When Mickey’s face came back into view, her eyes were all glassy, mouth pressing together like she was trying to hold it in, “Not gonna be thanking me when it’s two in the fucking morning and I’m throwing a bitch fit because I want—”

Ian kissed her, quieting her instantly; Mickey kissed right back, losing her focus. “Anything you want, any time. It’s my turn, okay? I take care of you now.”

Mickey’s hands curled over Ian’s shoulders as she looked up at her, bottom lip caught between her teeth. She was so beautiful. “Take me home,” she said.

Ian nodded, grinning.

**Author's Note:**

> full disclosure: I started writing a little hanky-panky scene for the end of this, but I'm not 100% confident in my fem smut??? so???  
> I'm gonna work on it and if I like it, post a new chapter where they're just fuckin, ya know. idk. it's a maybe lmao. BUT! This is very important: I am an equal opportunity smut writer, so if they fuckin, they _fuckin_... if they lovin on each other, they lovin on each other. I'm not gonna write 'oh sapphic moon goddess lemme worship your body under the stars and touch you as if you were made as delicate as my grandmothers fine china' unless it calls for that. Girls fuck too. *jumps off my soap box*
> 
> tbh I know I probably should have waited until after I wrote the scene, thought about it and then posted in it's completion.... but ya girl is impatient AND anxious.
> 
> This is my first ever wlw fic... so I mean... idk, I'd love to know what y'all thought :)


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